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From all these trees, in the salads, the soup, everywhere, cherry blossoms fall.
Matsuo Basho
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Matsuo Basho
Age: 50 †
Born: 1644
Born: January 1
Died: 1694
Died: November 28
Artist
Poet
Writer
Vaxjo
Matsuo Basho
Bashō
Bashô
Basho
Matsuo Bashou
Salad
Soup
Trees
Everywhere
Salads
Spring
Cherry
Tree
Cherries
Fall
Blossoms
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He who creates three to five haiku poems during a lifetime is a haiku poet. He who attains to completes ten is a master.
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When your consciousness has become ripe in true zazen-pure like clear water, like a serene mountain lake, not moved by any wind-then anything may serve as a medium for realization.
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The haiku that reveals seventy to eighty percent of its subject is good. Those that reveal fifty to sixty percent, we never tire of.
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Felling a tree and gazing at the cut end - tonight's moon
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Between our two lives there is also the life of the cherry blossom.
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the universe and its beings are a complementarity of empty infinity, intimate interrelationships, and total uniqueness of each and every being.
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Poverty's child - he starts to grind the rice, and gazes at the moon.
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Real poetry, is to lead a beautiful life. To live poetry is better than to write it.
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Before enlightenment, chopping wood and carrying water. After enlightenment, chopping wood and carrying water.
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The old pond, ah! A frog jumps in: The water's sound.
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Farewell, my old fan. / Having scribbled on it, / What could I do but tear it / At the end of summer?
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The fact that Saigyo composed a poem that begins, I shall be unhappy without loneliness, shows that he made loneliness his master.
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Go to the pine if you want to learn about the pine, or to the bamboo if you want to learn about the bamboo. And in doing so, you must leave your subjective preoccupation with yourself. Otherwise you impose yourself on the object and you do not learn.
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When I speak My lips feel cold - The autumn wind.
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Clapping my hands with the echoes the summer moon begins to dawn.
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Even in Kyoto/Hearing the cuckoo's cry/I long for Kyoto
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No matter where your interest lies, you will not be able to accomplish anything unless you bring your deepest devotion to it.
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April's air stirs in Willow-leaves...a butterfly Floats and balances
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How I long to see among dawn flowers, the face of God.
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